So This Is Love
by mustardgirl1128
Summary: Ron explores his senses...Ron/Hermione. :Written for the 5 Days and Senses Challenge::To Pinky Green: ONESHOT


A/N: For Pinky Green's _5 Days and Senses Challenge_. Thanks Pinky!!

Set in 1st-7th year. Ron's POV

Dedication: Pinky Green, who is SO awesomly awesome!

* * *

**Monday: Hear**

He and Harry are on the train, talking about everything and nothing.

He can't believe it's _the_ Harry Potter! And—and their practically friends!

And then she barges in, talking about a toad, and the second he hears her voice, he can't forget about her.

Even though she's a know-it-all, even though he bad-mouthed her, even though he and she will fight a lot, he's infinitely glad when they save her from the troll.

Two friends already.

* * *

**Tuesday: Smell**

In second year, when she get's petrified, he realizes he misses her scent.

She smells of parchment and warm summer days and beautiful.

He misses that. He wants her scent. He doesn't want Harry's—sweat and fear and confusion.

He needs _hers_.

And when she comes back, when she hugs Harry, when they look at each other and decide it's easier just to shake hands, he smells it immediately.

And later, he sniffs curiously at his hand. It smells of fear and love and devotion and _her._

* * *

**Wednesday: Taste**

In third year, as he gets dragged down to the Shrieking Shack, he accidentally gets a mouthful of mud and grass.

_Yuck_. He spits it out, and then he sees her face, he hears her screaming, and he reaches out in vain. He pictures her lips, closes his eyes, and he can taste them on his own.

He remembers how she went to him for comfort as Buckbeak was getting killed. He smelled her hair and he could taste her lips.

It's been happening all year, this sudden want to kiss her.

He pushes it from his thoughts as he goes hoarse from shouting, "_Hermione!_"

The dog morphs, and for some ridiculous reason, he taste her lips on his.

* * *

**Thursday: Feel**

Fourth year.

Merlin, fourth year. The year his emotions went haywire.

Harry—he's jealous.

Neville—he's confused why—and how—Neville is able to help them, but begins to respect him—just a bit.

Ginny—He sees that, though she's stopped mooning after Harry, she still sneaks him looks. He sees this, he sees the longing in her eyes, and he resolves to talk her out of it.

And Hermione—oh, Hermione! Her betrayal ruined the entire year for him. Precious _Vikki_ was her first choice, he saw. It was obvious, wasn't it?

And when the two went to the Yule Ball together, what should have been a good time was ruined by Bulgaria and Quidditch stars and yelling and crying. She was so beautiful, and when she cried, he longed to grab her and hug her, to feel her in his arms.

He felt only emptiness, though.

* * *

**Friday: See**

He's sees her suffering.

He sees her crying, secretly.

He sees her distress, while trying to work with the DA, during the hardest year of their lives.

He sees her anger at the Ministry, at Percy, at Umbridge.

He sees all of her, every bit, and he doesn't know how to change it.

He wishes he could wipe it all away, wake her up, and tell her it was a nightmare.

But, as he watches Sirius fall through the Veil, he knows it's all real.

Everything he sees is life.

No more time for dreaming.

* * *

**Saturday: Love**

He never knew love was a sense.

But he knows that what he feels for her is love, like a sixth sense. He longs to gather her up and kiss her soundly, hard, so that it took her breath away.

But he knows he can't. He's with stupid, air-head Lavender, and he's got no control over her heart.

Love seems to be ruining him. He is unsure what to do, how to act, when she is so angry at him.

Lavender is a good kisser, he thinks, before he gets in too deep.

Then, all he feels is how repulsing she is, how Hermione would be better at it all.

Lavender is nothing.

Hermione is love.

* * *

**Sunday: Hearing, Smelling, Tasting, Feeling, Seeing, and Loving**

He kisses her, in the midst of the Battle, and all sounds melt away—including Harry's shouts.

He breaths in her scent: Of sweat, dirt, injuries, sadness, parchment, summer, and beautiful. She smells of all of it—she smells of love.

He finally tastes her kiss, and as he runs his tongue over her upper lip and feels her shiver, he can't help but feel ecstatic through it all.

He feels her hair through his fingers, he feels her lips, and he feels her everything.

They finally break apart to, "OI!" from Harry. He sees her reddened lips, her smile, and the basilisk fangs on the floor. And he smiles.

So this is love.


End file.
